Not a Stupid Man
by potterfanxp123
Summary: A series of revealation fics where Perry finds out that people know Clark is Superman, beginning with the man himself.
1. Perry White

**Not a Stupid Man**

Perry White was not a stupid man. Nor was he as ignorant of the goings-on of the people around him as people liked to assume. For starters, Perry could tell you which of the five new secretaries were in happy relationships, by more than the obvious signs.

He could also, to a lesser extent, tell you the state of mind that Lois was in by her tell-tale signs, and whether or not Richard was on the receiving end of another famous Lane rampage.

They didn't call her 'Mad-Dog' for nothin'.

But, for the life of him, Perry White had never been able to peg Clark Kent. The quiet Kansan farmboy had, and he means this in the nicest way possible, always been a bone of contention in his perfectly ordered world. As far as Perry was concerned, Clark Kent was one of those mysteries that was just never explained.

Sadly, that all changed last Tuesday. He'd thought it interesting when Clark had made his return public, coming by the office that Friday morning, asking for the return of his job after a five-year absence. After all, the last he'd seen of the six-foot plus farmboy, Clark had turned in his resignation, citing a need to 'find himself' as though the years he'd already spent abroad were for nothing.

Clark, at that time, had explained that he was unused to sitting in one place for more than a couple years time, constantly moving had become a habit for the world-traveled young man.

It hadn't been two days, when Superman's visage was once again seen on television screens world wide. The familiar shield that was seen as a symbol of peace world over, the blue spandex, with underwear on the outside of all things, and long red cape setting a plane in the middle of the World Series.

Fool me once, shame on you.

It wasn't too hard for the hardened reporter, who single-handedly brought down the world-infamous Lionel Luthor, to put the pieces together after that. But, in that case, an exposè had been just what the doctor called for. The Luthor patriarch had been nothing but a tyrant, and a thugh. He'd misused and misappropriated funds on a regular basis, that by the time his corruption was brought to light, the public just shook their heads and said, "It's about time."

Clark was different, he was someone that Perry worked with, bossed around even. The thought was ludicrous, and at the same time, nothing but unadulterated truth.

Clark Kent was Superman.

No, correct that, Clark Kent _is_ Superman. His trip, as far as Perry could figure, was nothing but a ruse so Superman could take his five year trip into the known universe, and return unharmed.

But, even in his perfectly ordered world, Perry knew without a doubt that he hadn't enough evidence at the time. Clark was simply to good at what he did, blending into the background. He always had a, though now Perry realized invalid, reason for disappearing at odd times.

Even Superman had to lie at times, it seemed.

No, if it hadn't been for one fatalistic proof, he'd never had been able to prove all of this. But, it's really simple. Superman was in the hospital for two days. Clark, in all his blundering glory, didn't have a reason for his hiatus.

It was all to eerily simple.

That was why he was in a dilemna. The paper stood as a symbol of truth in journalism, coming straight-forward with the news, no matter who it hurt, or how long the repercussions lasted. As her _editor-in-chief_ Perry had an obligation to report the news as it happened.

He just couldn't bring himself too.

"Kent!" Perry's irritated voice ring throughout the newsroom, intent on getting some answers. Clark's suddenly rigid form tensed even further, as if he were in pain, his hand perched seemingly over where Superman's scar, if the Man of Steel scarred that is, would have been, his hand pushing off of the desk with seemingly slow motions. It had only been two days, after all.

Perry watched as Clark, with slow exasborated movements made his way to his feet, his hand pushing on his side as pain covered his face.

"Yes Chief?" the usually bumbling farmboy asked, as he entered the man's office, his hand resting on the back of a chair as he held himself straight.

"Close the door and sit down, Kent, no need for everyone to overhear.

Now Perry was intrigued, as Clark seemingly tensed for a moment, as if reassuring himself that something was alright, before the door closed with a light thud. Trust the farmboy to take extra care, even in his hurt state.

"Kent, I'll make this plain and simple, I think you're Superman."

Clark's eyes widened, his left hand rising from his lap to cover his mouth, which had fallen open in shock. "W-what makes you say that, Chief?"

The man smiled, glad for a chance to show off his investigative skills, which rumor had it had dulled over the years to a minute amount. "It's simple Kent, you made two mistakes. The first is the timing of your return.

Kent, I'm not a stupid man, and I do know how one plus one always equals two. You returned on a Friday, and came to my office, bags still packed, saying that you'd just returned from your trip and would, 'really like my old job back'."

"And the second chief?" Clark asked, his voice suddenly lower an octave, as his back straightened. Perry was impressed, he knew how to switch between his two sides flawlessly, only someone of great practice could pull off that, even with a five year hiatus between.

"The second, Kent, was your unexplained absence during the New Krypton thing. You were missing for two days, two unexplained days in which Superman was laying in a hospital. You returned the day _after_ Superman released himself."

Clark seemed to melt in upon himself, as the truth stared him in the face. To Perry, it seemed the Kansas farmboy was preparing himself for some major blow. The man smiled, as he knew that Perry was well within his rights to report the news as he saw fit.

"The only thing I want to say is, thank you son."

Clark's searching eyes focused on Perry's penetrating gaze. "I've seen you leave at the oddest times, realized that, only minutes later Superman would appear, and you'd come back, sometimes smelling of fire. You'd always say that you'd received a tip that something had gone down, and come back with a good story at times, and other times you'd pass a word to Gil, or God knows, Lois.

You don't ask for a raise, and you work, as far as I can tell, near twenty-four hours a day. You sacrificed your life to fight Lex Luthor, and lifted an _island made of poison_ to space to save us. You're selfless, as Clark and as Superman."

Clark smiled, "thank you Chief."

"Just tell me something, Kent."

"Yes Chief?" the man asked.

"We've never been scooped because you heard something you shouldn't, right?"

Clark only smiled, his gaze saying it all.

_End_


	2. Jason White

PART TWO

Jason White was not a stupid man, in either sense of the word. For one, his teachers said that he was the smartest, most politest little boy they'd ever taught.

The second, and most important reason, to him, was that he was only five-and-three-quarters years old. And yet, as he stared at Mister Clark on the T.V. standing there in his "SUPERMAN" costume, picking the bus up, he couldn't understand why the adults around him were so clueless.

Sure, Mister Clark sometimes accidentally-but-really-on-purpose will trip over the desk, and sometimes he'll spill the 'hot' coffee on his hand, and say, "Gosh darn that's hot," but really, can't they see that it's all pretend?

Even his mommy, who still hasn't been to the pulitzer, can't see what he saw the first time Mister Clark stood beside him.

Nope, Jason White is most definately not a "Stupid man," even if the word "Stupid" got him sent to time out.

"Uncle Perry!" the little boy yelled as he entered the newsroom. The man was the smartest, funniest man that he knew, if anyone knew, it'd be Uncle Perry.

"Hey there buddy," the gruff man said, bending down to pick the five year old up, "what're you doing down here? Where's Lois?"

"Mommy went to the roof, but she said she was going to the bathroom."

"And Richard?" the man asked, wondering where his father was. Jason bent over to his ear, "he had to go to China to cover the 'lympics, uncle Perry."

The man nodded. "I thought he was leaving tonight," he said to the boy. Jason sighed, he really wanted to ask Uncle Perry something, but mommy said to always be polite (even though she never did when covering a lead!)

"Yep, but the plane people called, he had to go early."

"Well, how bout you just sit in here, I've got some new crayons and a Superman and Batman coloring book you can use."

Jason smiled, as the man put him down on the ground so he could walk.

When the door was closed, he'd ask the question so Mister Clark's secret wasn't told to anyone else.

As the door closed, he said, "Uncle Perry, can I ask you a question?"

"What's up munchkin?" the man asked. Jason smiled.

"Why does Superman wear glasses when he's Mister Clark?"

Perry turned to him and said, "you know, that's a good question. And you want to know what Mister Clark said?"

Jason jumped up, his eyes wide with excitement. "Yep, I sure do Uncle Perry!"

"Well, he said that sometimes when he was little, about your age, he started looking through walls, and that it got so bad, that he was seeing everything all the time. Even yucky stuff, like mommy and daddy kissing."

Jason's nose scrunched up, and said, "girl's are yucky!"

The man smiled, wanting to laugh at his nephew's innocence. "Well, Mister Clark's mommy, Martha, and his daddy, Johnathon, got him a pair of glasses that have stuff that Mister Clark can't see through."

"Oh," Jason said, "they help Mister Clark not see through stuff!" he said. The man nodded.

"Uncle Perry, are ya gonna get a sclusive, and interview Mister Clark now that you know he's Superman?"

"Nope, Mister Clark does a lot of stuff for a lot of people, so I figure that the Daily Planet can keep _this_ secret, even if we don't keep everything else a secret."

"When's Mister Clark gonna tell his secret, do ya think, Uncle Perry?"

"I think," the man said, pausing, "I think that when Mister Clark is ready to tell his secret, he'll tell me. And then, I'll tell you so you can tell mommy, alright?"

"Thanks, Uncle Perry," the boy said, hugging him as the door opened, revealing a very disheveled Clark. He was covered, head to toe, in soot from the Volcanic eruption that Superman had been at just minutes ago.

"Hi Mister Clark!" Jason said, running over to the man and jumping into his arms, sure that the man would catch him, after all not even _Superman_ would let him fall and get hurt.

To the surprise of the newsroom that had gathered to watch, Clark did exactly that.

"Hey Jason, it's... it's good to... to see you."

"Munchkin, how bout you go back to mommy's desk, while Clark tells me about his assignment, you know that grown-up talk is boring."

Jason nodded, and as he closed the door said, "thank you Mister Clark."

No one, not even Perry, saw the glimmer of a tear in the man's eyes as he looked towards the little boy, and only Perry heard him say, "you're welcome, son."

_End, Chapter_


	3. Jimmy Olsen

Not a Stupid Man, Part Three; A Superman Returns FanFic

Not A Stupid Man, Part Three

Jimmy Olsen was not a stupid man. That said, he was most definately a man (not that the chief often thought so, of course). In fact, behind the lens of the camera that never left his side, Jimmy Olsen had captured most of the biggest, newsworty exclusives that the planet ran. His pictures, to his immense pleasure, were almost constantly on the front page, and if not, they were always in the top five.

So, it's no wonder that he caught one of the biggest glimpses in his best friends alternate lifestyle that both shocked him, and made him stop and think.

After all, mild-mannered reporters that have trouble walking a straight line are _not_ supposed to moonlight as a superhero in tights.

And yet, if the jagged cut on his best friends side wasn't a mark of his vulnerability, then Jimmy could honestly say he didn't know what was.

He'd accidentally caught a picture of Superman's Kryptonite-infected wound the day New Krypton was pushed into the sky, and Superman admitted to the local hospital.

As a matter of fact, it was sitting on his Hard Drive at home, under triple-layered protection so deep, only the Pentagon could crack it.

And yet, as awkward as it sounds, he'd accidentally caught the same picture when he'd dropped the camera on Clark's hasty entrance yesterday, and hadn't been able to get rid of it since.

The wound was exactly the same shape, closed now obviously, and size as Superman's!

"Chief?" Jimmy asked, entering Perry White's office, he knew that the man would know what to do based on the minimal of information.

Said man was on the phone with other man, so held up a finger.

"Kent? You're where? You mean right now, you're actually on the ground in Russia, right now? What are you doing there, yes I know it's a great story, that's why we have an International Section!"

"No, the dialect is too obscure, you can't be seriously telling me you speak the Olonets Dialect of Russian, Kent! You can? Seriously, if you're lying Kent, I'll fire you here and now."

"Well," Perry said, sounding unconvinced to the one-sided conversation that Jimmy was listening too. "Fine, but you'd better have a damn good story Kent, or I might just have to cut your hours, and I'll do it too."

"Good job Kent, way to be so some initiative. Yes, we'll talk about your leaving to Karelia when you get back. Two days, alright write both the human interest and news angles on this one. Yes, I'll tell Jason "hi" for you, bye Kent."

The man turned, his eyes searching Jimmy, who merely waited for him to say something.

"You ever had a secret that just burst when you couldn't say it, but wanted too?" the man asked, and Jimmy nodded. "I know, it's horrible."

"How'd you figure it out," Perry asked him, and Jimmy shuffled nervously.

"I got a snapshot of Superman's wound from New Krypton, and one of Clark's side yesterday after he came in from the Volcanic eruption."

Perry sighed, and Jimmy could see the words, "you can't tell anyone" running across his brain. "Don't worry Chief, I've got the first one under lock-and-key at home, with a self-initializing computer virus ready to wipe my entire system if someone hacks it."

Perry held out his hand, and took Jimmy's camera, taking the 1GB memory card out of there, and replaced it with a 2GB card. "If anyone asks, this one crashed and that's the only one I had on file. Are there any good pictures on this one?"

"Just one of Superman saving Lois after the kidnappers threw her out of the plane yesterday afternoon, Chief."

He placed it in his drive, printed the picture, and took it back out. After doing such, he took a pair of scissors and cut the disk in two pieces.

"So," Jimmy asked, "how many other people, ya know, know?"

"Would you believe that Jason figured it out before anyone did?" Perry asked, and Jimmy laughed.

"Well," Jimmy said, "I'll get back to work, Chief, I'll see you around. Tell CK that his secret's safe with me."

"OLSEN! WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU BROKE A NINETY-DOLLAR CHIP!"

Jimmy sighed, "w-well Chief, it was one of my s-spares and got crashed during the New K-Krypton scare, I just f-found it yesterday cause the other one c-crashed... s-sorry Chief."

The man's eyes sparkled, and made to pass something to him, the entire crew watching the cherade with anticipation. Jimmy faked a bumble and pushed it in, and said, "t-thanks Chief."

Perry sighed, "Kent, you owe Olsen ninety-dollars, he knows and let me destroy one of his chips, you also owe the planet one-hundred and sixty-dollars for his replacement. Yeah, I'll contact Wayne Industries, I still can't believe that you own part of Wayne Enterprizes.

Alright, I'll tell him you said."

_END_


	4. Lois Lane

Not A Stupid Man, Part Four

Lois Lane was not a stupid man. Of course, the most obvious flaw in that line of thinking was the fact that Lois Lane was not a man at all. And yet, for the life of her, she couldn't figure out why she hadn't seen it before.

The same blue eyes, the same "aw shucks" hair, and most importantly, the smile.

It always came down to the smile. Not a smile that claimed to be extremely happy-go-lucky that all men seemed to constantly wear. it was that smile, the "I'm not happy with anything right now but will put up with it anyway" smile, the false smile.

Superman's smile. Jason's smile. Clark's smile.

You'd think finding out that your best friend masqueraded in tights clad in the primary three was a momentous occassion. And, in most cases (those being the betrayal, the shock and the epiphany of Jason's relationship to the man himself), you'd be right.

But, the fact that he'd even slipped around her when he was usually so careful, so minute in every detail that she couldn't help but feel ashamed for not having seen it, was a testament to the situation itself.

His mom was dead. Martha Kent, a name that hadn't been as much as uttered in the last decade, had died at her home in Smallville, Kansas, leaving behind thirty cattle, fifty hens and roosters, twenty hogs, five hundred acres of land, a home, and evidentally a superhero son that had fathered her only grandchild.

A grandchild she had never met.

The man himself was nearing the elevators, she was sure his intentions included flying to Smallville to cover the funeral arrangements and try to rangle the press to a more manageable situation.

She looked at Jason, tears in his eyes as he looked at his hero, and unknown to him, father. She looked at Perry, who was already on the phone to Bruce Wayne, of all people, making arrangements for Clark's bi-weekly salary to go into a steady account as he took personal days to recover from his grief.

She looked at Richard, whom she was quicky coming to realize was the only one in the group to not know the burdening secret she'd just realized as Jimmy was barely holding the tears in, his fingers fidgeting.

Her decision made, she stood and ran to the elevators, where Clark's bulking form was still waiting for service.

"Clark," she said. He turned to her, tears streaming down his face as the elevator chimed. She turned to look at Richard, and Jason who had followed her rapid exit from the meeting room curiousity written on their faces.

"Can we come with you? You don't need to be alone during times like this, and Perry owes us all some vacation time anyways. Jason's never been to a farm before, and I'm sure he could use the experience."

He looked to Richard, who was holding Jason, a smile on his lips as he nodded and said, "I'll even fly us there, no sense in paying for a plane ticket when you can get there free, right?"

He turned, tears glistening in his eyes as Jason reached toward the larger-than-life superhero-slash-mild-mannered reporter.

"I really appreciate it," he muttered, and stepped inside the elevator, it groaning with the combined weight.

She looked at Jason, his head cradled in (Mister) Clark's neckline and sighed, wondering if the reason he never told her was because of her relationship with Richard, or fear that he'd be forbidden from seeing their son.

Either way, she couldn't help but smile at the sight of her son comforting the father he didn't know was his, who in return didn't know that all it took was a false smile, something that must have been genetically predispositioned, to bring down the house of cards that was the Superman/Clark Kent coorelation.

No, Lois Lane was not a stupid man, in any sense of the word.

End

Authors Note: Sniff, sniff.


	5. Richard White

Not a Stupid Man, Part Five

Richard White was not a stupid man. In fact, apart from being named Richard and being a man, nothing else in that sentence was true. He ran the international section of a world-renown newspaper, he was engaged to be married to the most beautiful woman he had ever met, and, most importantly of all, he had the love of a son that he was raising to be a good man.

And yet, as he stared across the blue horizon reflected through the windshield of his biplane, Richard couldn't understand the feelings that Lois was showing her partner in all but name, Clark Kent.

It was subtle, the gentle caresses of Clark's hand as she held it. The wiping of his tears as Clark cried, his heart-wrenching sobs echoing throughout the biplane's interior, and Lois' soft words that, though low in tone, reverberated off the metal interior.

And yet, they spoke out far greater than even her love for Superman. This was the touch of a woman that knew a man intimately. It was how Lois acted with him, and that scared him.

As he watched the skies, his eyes couldn't help but be drawn to his son, the little boy that was sitting in the co-pilots' chair as he had on so many occasions before. Jason was sitting there, his legs swinging happily, his smile lighting the small space. Richard, for once studying his son's face, couldn't help but notice the striking similarities in eye-color that Jason shared with their bereaved friend.

Or that they shared the same hair.

It was a scary thought. And yet, he knew it was true. He'd known it since the second he saw the goon with the clown face tattoo'd into the back of his skull, crushed beneath a grand piano.

He'd known it since the second Lois told him, explaining only the night before, that Jason was his in name, but name only. That Jason, the son that he'd raised, was also son to Superman; that, as much as it scared him to admit it, he was son to Clark Kent.

They neared the airfield in Smallville, Kansas, a small community airport that probably only saw use twice a year, if that. As he called the tower, and got permission to land, Richard rounded a second time and landed the plane with nary a problem, taxiing to a stop as smoothly as possible.

Now that the differences were easy to see, he understood the soft touches, the caresses that he himself had felt on occasion. This was the comfort a woman would give to a man she had loved, and probably still did.

Still, Clark had been nothing but honorable in his intentions since he'd met the man. And Superman, he knew, he could trust since the man was the world's greatest hero. He'd have to talk to him, tell him that he'd figured out the farm-boy's secret, and ask what he wanted to do.

That could wait, though, Richard knew. Right now, Clark was too heavily bereaved, the death of his mother, placing a heavy burden on his friend. And he knew that Clark was his friend, the man had risked life and limb for him, for the world, to be anything but.

And yet, as Lois took his hand, her soft, warm palm resting comfortably against his, he couldn't help but feeling the elation that the small action shot through him. It was, in her own way, Lois' declaration of love.

He knew, he accepted that Clark was Jason's father, he accepted that Clark had been intimate with his fiancé, and he accepted that Lois had moved on, and that she was committed to him, as he was to her.

Richard would have no problem sharing his son's life with Clark, he would have no problem giving the other man his friendship, and he wouldn't worry about the late nights that Lois and Clark worked together, especially now that his Uncle Perry had recognized that the same charisma that they'd carried years ago was still there.

And, he wouldn't have a problem keeping his little discovery from the man and woman in front of him. Clark, in either of his guises, deserved that much. After all, he'd saved his son, his relationship, and his friendships, and he'd not cared about those consequences.

And for that, Richard White decided, Clark Kent was worth the trouble, worth the hassle, and worth sharing the life he'd helped to create, in either of his guises.

End

_Author's Notes: I started this story almost three years ago, and had intended it to be a long series of reveals, but when my mom started getting sick, I ended it, and as you can see, I wasn't very nice about it. I've decided to restart it, so the major differences will be a new chapter, or two, and the "complete" being removed from the story. **I technically only had one vote for resuming this fic, but since it WAS a yes, I'll upload it. Thanks!**_


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